The Long Road, I
by Jack Miller
Summary: We've all heard about the defeat of the combine. That's same old same old. But, what happens after their defeat?


The Long Road.

The man with brown hair stood upon the ledge, his rustic Kevlar and his his jeans absorbing the cold wind. City Eighteen at night was so peaceful. He still remembered when he was among those unfortunate enough to be wearing a blue jumpsuit, the stunstick beatings. It was then that he got his interest in revolt. He looked over at the bridge. His hardened eyes began softening, but he held back the tears. Right on that bridge, his wife was burned alive. Right in front of him. A link formed in his mind between that event and the public beheading of his friend, in city eleven. He held his SMG in his right hand, his radio in his left. '_It's time, jack._' his brain sighed to him.

It was about this time last year that he had met David 'Notch' Andrews. The man that set him on the path to freedom. He remembered the intensive effort he put forth, scaling out of city eighteen walls and down to the outlands. The knife David gave him was still in his pocket. His entire network was made possible by the people of the settlement he moved to. Jericho. That neat little settlement on the outside. It was there that he re-nourished himself. It was there that he made contacts. They renamed the town 'The Mill', after Jack's last name, Miller. He stared long and hard into the dark corners of the street. Now was the time. It was the long and careful planning that led to this moment.

"Begin." he spoke into the radio. At an instant, a mob of men marched down the street, citizens gathered to them. A chant arose. "Hey, Ho, Time to go! Hey, Ho, Time to go!" The civil protection units assembled in a riot line, blocking the nexus in the plaza from the tall stairs to the change store, to the other end of the bottleneck. The citizens hurled bottles at them, rocks. In no time, armed men in the crowd shimmied to the front and opened up. The clustered civil protection units were gunned down, and the citizens hurried forward. Armored units hurried forward out of the nexus door, only to get swamped by the tide of citizens. All across city eighteen, attacks on hardpoints had begun by outlands members of jack's organization. The screen, usually pre-occupied by the administrator's face, was occupied by a message. 'GRIND THE GRAIN OF TYRANNY TO MAKE THE FLOUR OF FREEDOM.' Citizens gathered arms and munitions from fallen units and soldiers. Jack went down, among the plaza. The nexus doors had been pried open as the armored overwatch units were overpowered, citizens flowing in. Jack hustled to the crowd.

Freedom had come with the millers, and city eighteen's liberation was at hand.

The armed citizens stormed up the stairs, the sheer mass of fire and their speed did not allow for any attempt to set up barricades on the part of the Universal Union's soldiers. They came to a catwalks, men scattered about the railings and gave fire to the surrounding area, and about six men walked up to the door. One held a breaching charge, he planted it on the door. Jack wriggled to the front, just behind the lines of soldiers. They got back to the doorway, aiming at the door, which blew open in a mist of smoke. The group stormed in, firing.

Jack followed as the gunfire stopped. Three citizens lay dead on the floor, as opposed to two elite units. The man sat in his chair at the end of the room, covering his head, planted on the desk. Jack walked up to him. "Administrator Bueller, pleasure to meet you. I am Jack Miller. Lovely office, by the way." Bueller simply groaned as he continued laying his face on the oak desk. "Keep him under guard, I have an announcement to make."

Jack walked into the room with a camera above the doorway, focusing on a glass pane with wall behind it. Jack walked in front of the pane, the camera automatically activating. "Greetings, citizens of City Eighteen. You're most likely expecting a speech about how the combine have done 'Many things' for us. I am going to give no such speech. We know how much they have taken from us. We KNOW how they have ended the lives of many a loved one, many a childhood friend, many a child. For many a year these murderers have beaten us, murdered us, and tortured us. They have sapped our strength and tried to kill off our entire species. But, as it has many a time before, the innate human instinct of freedom has called brave men to action. Our very own Millers, run by I, Jack Miller, have liberated us from the tyranny of the Universal Union. We have much rebuilding ahead of us, and the Union will attempt to re-assert themselves, no doubt. But you must fight, tooth and nail, inch by inch, until they understand that we will no longer tolerate their legalized murder, their crime turned law. This is Jack Miller, signing off. Remain vicious. Remain human. Remain free."

Jack walked away. He spoke. "Administrator Bueller, I, on behalf of City Eighteen, charge you with Genocide, Crimes against Humanity, and Corruption of Justice." The millers dragged him out of his chair, bringing him downstairs. Gunfire continued throughout the city, but the expected crushing by the combine never came, as their central point of command had been taken and turned against them. They were stuck in a pincer movement on both sides. Coming into the nexus, each minute, fighters came in with surrendered Units. They were put in the same cells the citizens were crowded into at a time.

Gunfire still came on the outskirts, as scattered OTA responses were crushed. The millers had defeated their stations outside the city as they flooded in. Jack stood on the roof of the nexus. He looked at the city as it stood. It crept into his mind that this city that he usually saw from the ground, riddled with intimidation, violence, and repression, was now truly free.

The air was filled with a sweet form of vindication. The citizens wore their jumpsuits, sitting in benches in the large warehouse, fitted with benches, a tall podium, two legal benches, and two desks. Jack stood in the crowd, as the judge spoke. "This court is called to order in the case of Humanity versus Administrator Jason Bueller." The prosecution stood. "People of this city: You all remember what we have been put through. Daily intimidation, abuse, Attacks, Murder, all not by one discreet group of terrorists or by an enemy force, but by law enforcement of a puppet administrator propped up by an invading army. The bodies are everywhere, and in everyone's memory. Those we love now lay dead, because of the Kabal of puppets set up by the Combine. And Jason Bueller is among this kabal. In the name of freedom, and of justice and reparations, I ask the judge and my fellow citizens of city seventeen, to take into account the horrid crimes of this man as this case proceeds, as we expose his horrid crimes, and his inhuman treatment of his fellow man that he treated like his playthings." The prosecution sat.

"And, what, exactly, happened to you that day?" The prosecutor asked jack as he was on the stand. Jack replied. "I was attempting to get back to my apartment over the bridge, wherein I was randomly put up against a wall by Civil Protection, tied, and beaten. As I woke up on the bridge, I saw my wife laying, burning, before me. She was alive, I could tell, she was screaming, and twitching." Jack's eyes began tearing up. The prosecutor spoke again. "And what, exactly, caused the fire?" Jack spoke again. "I saw a fuel can in the hands of the Civil Protection units as she burned, they set it aside as she died." "No further questions, your honor."spoke the prosecution. Jack got off the stand, and down. More and more testimonies came and went, describing, in detail, abuses by civil protection, execution of innocent citizens, and naming of the abusive ordinances passed by the administrator. As closing statements came and went, The administrator spoke on his own behalf. "Citizens. I know there is no way of forgiving me. I have done the unforgivable treason against my fellow man, against you. I know that the justice system owes you what you deserve, some form of retribution. But don't let this desire for justice turn into a desire for revenge." The administrator sat, and the court deliberated. As the court returned, jack spoke, on behalf of the citizens. "We, the citizens of City Eighteen, find Administrator Jason Bueller, Guilty of the crimes of Murder, Corruption, Abuse, and Genocide." The judge nodded, and the court went into recess again. As they came back, the judge spoke. "Jason Bueller, I sentance you, hereby, to die for your crimes, may god have mercy on your soul."

As the citizens left the court that day, an air of sweet revenge and justice had carried through. The next day, that air remained as the administrator's death brought celebration to the city.

The usual gunfire echoed from the edges of the city, the old combine barricades which were being reinforced with new material as jack arose from his morning slumber. He walked over to his refrigerator, grabbing the coarse melon that sat within and walking over to his cabinets. He grabbed the one knife on hand and began cutting into the melon, cutting out a slice. Antlions had become more of a problem recently, with the combine defense field down, replaced by human barricades.

A provisional, representative government had set down base laws, the standard. Jack walked over to his couch, and sat. He began eating his slice of melon. The gunfire from the distance died down. Jack's body felt a relief coming from the juicy slice of melon. The sounds of construction came from outside, road repair, industrial factories pumping out products. He had a job in his own auto-garage from money amassed during the combine occupation. As he finished the juicy red melon, he sat. Memories of the past combine days flashed by. His old citizen life was much like this, but he had that constant fear like a bind around his chest, as though someone had put an iron ring across his mind and his heart, constraining his self. He had to but free himself. It was an awakening of sorts.

Arms came from his side, it was his wife. He spoke in his dreary voice, slowly awakening. "Morning, Sophie. You got Max today?" "Yeah, I got him. Could you pick up a few things from the general store on the way home?" "Sure, sure. I got to go, I love you." "I love you too dearie." said sophie, and jack leaned over, pecking her on the cheek. Jack got up, going over to his shoes. He put on his new checkered button shirt and his jeans, and then put on his black shoes. He then went over to the door, looking back on his wife, who was now holding Max in her arms. A small, blonde-haired little toddler with hazel eyes. He walked out and went over to the newly fashioned garage, carved out of an overwatch building. The old combine metals still resided in scattered clusters across the walls as he walked over to his ford, opening the door, turning the keys and then shutting the door. He strapped his seatbelt and drove over to the exit, and went onto his side of the road, beginning to drive. Many were still walking on the sidewalks, but there were a few cars on the road along with his.

The city air refreshingly flowed through the streets, as Jack walked through the sidewalks. Children laughed and skipped with their parents, infant products sat in the windows of nearby shops. He sighed and stared at the plaza. The huge, ugly monitor that once sat atop the plaza was torn down, only its hinges remained. The old combine additions to buildings still showed somewhat, but the newer buildings were devoid of these. New automobiles drove through the streets.

Police officers walked through the streets and drove their new cars through the streets. They made use of adapted combine technology, like most of the new vehicles. The new vehicles still required motor oil, but they relied on the former APC power system of electricity. The old hybrids came nowhere near the efficiency of these vehicles. Jack sighed and smiled. He once again had to pay taxes, which was something of a pain, but it was still significantly better than the previous authoritarian rule. His fellow citizens were obviously more healthy, they had a kick in their step. It was as though life was freshly breathed into the city. Jack continued his walk, his thoughts turned to a more philosophical tone.

He finally realized the real goal of the combine administrators, the human puppets. They had a good goal: They wanted to further human technology, they wanted to unite humanity under the banner of these strong new invaders, but they ended up binding humanity in chains. They achieved their goal, but in their defeat.  
The strongest irony, thought jack.

Jack finally arrived, the seemingly endless walk stopping in the serene park. He sat down on the bench that stood between two trees. Serenity and calm, a lack of intimidation that existed before. He remembered his old life in the city, during the reign of the Universal Union. He sat down at this bench prior, there were units everywhere. One on each sidewalk corner. He could just see it as it was, as he sat. Then the real world came back in. Citizens, walking to and fro. True peace at last.


End file.
